


The Reckoning

by DustyDesertBoots



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Despicable Clergyman, Diary/Journal, Early signs of love, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:21:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyDesertBoots/pseuds/DustyDesertBoots
Summary: Anne vents her emotion through the medium of her diary after her showdown with Reverend Ainsworth and comes to the conclusion that her feelings for Ann Walker are more than just superficial.





	The Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

> Whilst Anne Lister penned around 5 million words during her lifetime, I thought that the addition of a few more words to her diary would not hurt. Set against the backdrop of Ep 5 where Anne’s hope for the future remains untouched by Ann’s burgeoning demise.

**12 September 1832**

**2.30pm**

It has been some time that I have come to my diary bearing such rage and utter indignation. Such was the depth of my emotion, I made the distance of just under three miles from Lightcliffe on foot back to Shibden in quite a remarkably quick time. That fifty minutes served only one purpose and that was to reinforce a central point and one which I would never vacillate from; that vile creature who called himself a man of God would feel my physical wrath if he ever graced the presence, or contacted Ann ever again. Bearing the knowledge as I do regarding his carnal connection with her and tied with his insipid, despicable reasoning for such, I swear with my hand on the Bible laid on this writing desk at this very moment, that I cannot be held to account for what I might do to him.

I have never felt so consumed with such visceral anger. It took every ounce of self-restraint to not drive the heavy silver top of my cane through his chest. He complained that he was unhinged because of a toothache - I could have resolved that issue for him myself with a few quick swipes. I so wanted to crush him, to make him pay for putrefying the innocence and goodness that rests in that delicate flower of a woman that I feel duty bound to protect. Shooting Percy was a kind mercy in comparison to what I could to this sorry excuse for a man. I thank God that I was resolute and sound enough of mind to withhold the natural instinct to lash out and vent my anger through feeling him suffer the weight of my hand and boot.

I’m certain that I could’ve bettered him as I had often watched the Subalterns of the 33rd horse around and they had been so kind to teach me how to throw a punch. Never once during our time together did they treat me perversely, and whilst that may have been influenced by being my Father’s men, they regarded me equally on account of my sharp mind, the ability to beat them at cards and to drink and smoke as much as they did. I loved them for their camaraderie as much as they did mine.

I digress, but I am sure they would have admired me for my restraint as a Gentlewoman, but would have intercepted the Revered later at night and shown him in their own way what it is like to be taken against your will. The thought offers me some comfort, but not enough to quench the highly charged energy that still courses through my veins. I need to cut this entry short as these exquisite pages contained within this volume do not need to be tainted by any more thoughts caused by that despicable cretin.

**9.26pm**

I had to leave the house to put my mind and body to alternative use after the events of the morning. I find that manual labour does wonders to clear the mind and to rouse the soul and this afternoon was no different. The removal of the ghastly hedging at the bottom of the field is almost done and soon, with some levelling shall open up the vista rolling away from the forward elevation of the hall.

Dinner was perfunctory as ever with Marianne prattling on about the virtues of the rug man, whose name drifts in and out of my consciousness. I do know it is Mr Abbot, but I allow myself the opportunity for a little fun. The look on my Aunt and Father’s face is sound proof that the man is not good enough for her. I know that she is keen to break the shackles of spinsterhood and even though suitors are not as frequent as they were once were, she should not sell herself short for the sake of marriage. My opinion however does not ring home with Marianne as I sense she feels that I’m not suitably qualified to pass comment regarding men folk.

My own view of marriage is however starting to shift. I have to admit that I sought security in engaging with a woman who is sound in temper, gentle in manner and of independent means, the latter perhaps having more primacy than it ought to. But now, the warmth I feel when I am in the company of Ann Walker is changing my temperament somewhat. She talked of an obligation to that wretched man, and that may in some circles be the expected course of action to his offer, but what a senseless notion. What riches I feel bestowed upon me when her smile, and eyes charged with the brightness of the sun and stars combined are turned my way. No money can buy that light or the feeling that washes over me when her gaze connects with my own.

I’m acutely aware of the shift within me and the naming of it. Whilst I have not yet said the words aloud, I know the truth, I know the weave of the fabric that has wrapped itself around me, yet in part it scares me as I fear that I may not have the mettle to recover another episode of desertion. I have fallen in love with Miss Walker. She has eased her way past what I now know as poorly constructed defences whether by design or pure chance. Perhaps, that was the desired outcome of my subconscious, as that first smile she gifted my way in this very house, completely disarmed me. Her freshness, despite her near thirty years, has not been diminished in any way. Like a moth to a flame, I now see that I quickly fell under her spell just as perhaps she fell under mine. I do not see the weakness that others talk of with such decisiveness that I wonder if they have taken the Hippocratic oath. The only weakness I see is the lack of an ability to actually listen to the object of their scrutiny rather than continually speak on her behalf.

She has me completely under her thrall and I fear that my actions today have only consolidated and confirmed the depths of my feelings towards her. I know that I have already written a full account of that morning at Crows Nest, but the memory remains crystal clear. I frequently track back to recount vividly that first kiss in the lodge, so tender so full of wonderment at the act of engaging. The eagerness that followed I will never forget. That morning was one of discovery, not only for Ann but for me. Across the years, I can count on one hand and perhaps just a few fingers as to how many had delighted me with the softness of lips alone to ignite such a fire within me. Having travelled far and wide and kissed and taken the pleasure with many of the fairer sex, I can scarce believe that the jewel I had been seeking was only miles away from Shibden.

It drives me to utter distraction when I close my eyes and let my mind wander to that little spot just behind her earlobe, soft with the presence of downy hair that when nuzzled or gently nipped, causes a strike of lightning within her. Her awakening has been akin to my own rebirth. Notwithstanding every experience that has gone before, Ann’s ready acquiescence to my practiced inclination has not diminished this journey, each fully drinking in the wonderment of the other. Whilst the lay of the land is known, the touch of hot velvet for the very first time never ceases to amaze, stirring an almost like feral like behaviour in me.

Taking Ann on the couch in the day room was scurrilous, but I followed her lead when she stood up from the floor and walked us hand in hand to where she gave herself freely. I was by no means expecting to run my hands up the length of her stocking clad legs or to feel her hips drive into my own to gain a friction that her body craved for but her mind had yet to catch up with. Certainly that exploration beyond her undergarments was not wholly on the agenda, but had certainly been mentally construed a number of times proceeding that very day. My open palm I placed against her I thought would be my limit, but with the combination of hot open mouthed kisses and an almost frantic like need to unwind the tight coil that had been set within her, we went way beyond. Her legs I can recall parted, one slipping away off the edge of the low chaise, her toes occasionally bouncing the ornate oriental covering upon the floor, giving me cause to position myself atop so that she could feel the full nature of our impending connection.

Her pupils were blown when she looked into mine the moment I commanded her to. Much as I could have just indulged myself and taken liberty of her abundantly present wet heat, I remained steadfast and anchored in taking this road together. I didn’t need to explain, my intent was clear and she granted me permission with a simple, “please” which sent a shock wave through my own body that was only amplified when I pushed past the now spoiled and useless veil that was supposed to cloak her sex. There was no need to encourage, no need to work her up as my fingers coated by Ann’s liquid silk found their way to her opening that just spilled more heat over me. She felt incredible. That first venture upwards was not met with any resistance and with a newly formed euphoric wave I felt take hold within her, the second push was deepened with a rise of hips and arching of Ann’s back that initiated groans deep from both within us out into the open. I could have come undone at that very moment at the sound that had just passed her lips and with her head thrown back and the open expanse of her neck and décolletage on show, I ached to my core for my own release. Ann, in her abandonment, was an utter vision, her timid nature overtaken by a passion that had for so long been locked within her.

Sound reflexes and the ability to endure scrutiny were the only defences that saved me from the entrance of Mrs Priestly, who I have concluded has the tendencies of a voyeur. What a sight we must have looked to her as she barged her way in. The strength within Ann was startling and I still do wonder as to how she stood her ground upon those trembling legs of hers. No matter, her compass is set and she seeks me out as much as I seek her; our time in York was proof alone.

A note lies upon my desk arrived after this evening’s dinner from Crows Nest. They are daily occurrences now and there isn’t as much as a flicker when their arrival is announced. My company has been requested in the afternoon with the offer to stay for dinner. I know without openly stating it, that Ann wishes for me to stay overnight and I am more than happy to oblige her that. I do so need to confirm that she has parted with every notion that she has to take the hand of that wretch, but instead accept my own. Eugénie almost anticipates the requirement to pack when the notes arrive, so her routine has shifted now to take account of my inevitable request. There will hopefully come a time in the not too distant future, when Ann is here with me on a permanent basis. Her being here would breathe new life into the bones of Shibden.

The downstairs clock has just chimed a quarter past ten. I shall look to retire safe in the knowledge that I will be soon again with the Angel who has simply, but categorically captured my heart.


End file.
